


Vice

by Aryagraceling



Series: Catharsis [25]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bipolar Disorder, Breaking Up & Making Up, Eventual Happy Ending, M/M, Mental Instability, On Hiatus, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Pining, Reconciliation, Teaching, Therapy, Trans Umino Iruka, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-02 14:55:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19443742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aryagraceling/pseuds/Aryagraceling
Summary: "You are exhausting to love."With five words, Iruka breaks Kakashi's heart.Kakashi struggles to pick up the pieces.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> It's me, popping in for a few seconds before starting to say that not everyone experiences bipolar the same way, just as not every trans person's experience is the same. That said, both Kakashi and Iruka's experiences are based loosely on my own. 
> 
> This story will not paint a flattering picture of Kakashi. It will show how he changes through the years, but there are plenty of fuck-ups and stupid things being done on his road to recovery. KakaIru is the end ship, but it is not the only relationship (on both Kakashi and Iruka's ends) that will be covered in the story.

“We need to talk” ranks pretty high on Kakashi’s list of least favorite things to hear. It’s somewhere above “we need to take a blood sample” but just below “the funeral’s in three days,” because not even the anxiety of confrontation can top a phone call that brings news of death. “We need to talk,” to Kakashi, means a different sort of hurting. “We need to talk” means something’s wrong and he needs to fix it.

Why he thinks that now, of all times, it might mean “I miss you” is beyond him. 

Iruka stands with one shoulder leaned on the doorframe, casual in his waiting. “Earth to Kakashi?” he says. “Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Kakashi shoves the paper he was in the middle of grading out of the way and beckons the other man in. His chair squeals on the floor as he pushes back to stand, starting to extend a hand before kicking himself for the idea. Iruka’s not a parent, or coworker, he’s…

Perching on a desk and looking like Kakashi’s favorite type of sin. “Naruto’s grades are slipping. I figured I’d come talk to you about it because you’ll find out eventually anyway, and I’d like to help him get back on the right track,” he says, thumbing through the file he brought with him. “He’s missed the deadline on two of the three last papers, and the one that he did turn in is...a little substandard, if I’m being honest.”

“Can I see?” Kakashi asks. Iruka hands over the papers and Kakashi skims the work, raising an eyebrow at the amount of red marks on the page. “What was this supposed to be about?”  
“Thoughts about the book we’re currently reading,” Iruka sighs. “Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe. Really sweet book, but I think he might have taken it a little too much to heart.”

“Smart, assigning a book about two, um, boys...right after we…”

“It was planned long before we broke up,” Iruka says. He hangs his head. “Parallels what I see of his friendship with Sasuke, too. I know it can be hard, facing stuff like this, but that doesn’t really excuse five pages of bitterness. At one point, he even calls the book ‘a pile of shit.’ Now, you know I’m pretty lax on the sweari--”

“I’ll talk to him about it,” Kakashi interrupts. “Sorry for his behavior.”

“I’m really not here to hear apologies, Kakashi,” Iruka says. “What can I do to help him succeed, do you think?”

_ Come back. _

Kakashi knits his fingers and rests his elbows on the desk, gaze cast down so Iruka doesn’t see the tears swimming in his eyes. “I can ask him what’s wrong tonight and get back to you,” he says softly. He should come out with it and tell Iruka that he hasn’t been coping well without him, and Naruto is likely picking up on the stress, but they’ve agreed to leave home at home. Unfortunately for Naruto, home is where Kakashi is. “What else has he been doing?”  
“Just generally seems to be out of it and acting out. I know it’s close to the anniversary of the crash, so I’ve been a little more understanding, but he can’t keep being an interruption in class,” Iruka says. Kakashi watches him shuffle uncomfortably from foot to foot. “I tried getting him to talk to Shizune, but she said he just clammed up.”

“I suppose he learned from the best,” Kakashi says with a mirthless laugh. “Didn’t he?”

“Don’t bring yourself into this.” When Kakashi looks up, Iruka’s looking out the window with frustration written throughout his body. “Don’t forget what we decided.”

“How could I?” Kakashi snips. Iruka’s nose wrinkles, and Kakashi looks back down as he takes a few deep breaths. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Naruto, ah--” he digs his nails into his palms to ground himself-- “Could we maybe set up a meeting with the three of us to chat? I’m free the rest of this week.”

“Tomorrow night would work fine,” Iruka says. “3:45?”

“It’s a--” Kakashi very nearly says  _ date,  _ but stops himself just in time. “That’s fine. Good. I’ll make sure he sticks around.” 

Iruka’s “I appreciate it” before he leaves is a far cry from the “I love you” Kakashi had gotten used to, but at least it’s something other than silence. Two months of nothing but the most professional contact has  _ hurt,  _ hurt worse than the way Iruka’s lip had trembled when he said that loving him was exhausting. 

_ I can’t do this anymore, Kakashi. I can’t. It’s too much. _

Kakashi shakes away the memory and grabs his pen nearly hard enough to break it. It doesn’t matter anymore, what Iruka thinks. It  _ shouldn’t,  _ at any rate, but Kakashi knows it likely always will. Because that’s what he does, seeks out others to tell him he’s all right, that he’s okay.

He exhausts  _ himself. _

It’s not until he’s nearly done with Kiba’s test that he realizes he’s just been skimming the answers with no regard to correctness. Time and most of the pile of papers has slipped by without him noticing, and he lays his head on his arms with a groan before letting a fist fall to the desk. Of all the things he wanted to do tonight, re-grading did not make the list. Getting food and curling up with Hulu, yes. Playing with the dogs, yes. Having behavioral talks and growling about the fact that no one seems to understand history, no.

“Shit, shit,  _ shit, _ ” he whispers. The lights nearly blind him as he looks up and yawns, halfway to a really good stretch before there’s a knock on the door. He starts at the sight of Iruka once again. “What?”

Iruka jerks his thumb toward the set of double doors next to Kakashi’s classroom. “I was just on my way out and it looked like you had passed out at your desk. Just wondering if you were okay.” The icy mask of indifference has slipped a bit and his eyes are soft now, slightly downturned as he frowns. “See you tomorrow, I suppose.”

Kakashi’s halfway out of his chair with arm extended and  _ “wait”  _ on his lips before Iruka turns to leave. “I just...can we--”

“Hmm?”  
“Never mind.” The arm drops, pulled back to cradle against his chest as Kakashi bites his lip. It was stupid, the thought that maybe they could go out and talk through the split. Kakashi snorts after Iruka waves and walks away. “As if he wants to hear anything more,” he mutters bitterly. “Don’t be a child.”

He decides enough is enough and packs his things to head home. The couch is much more inviting than his desk, anyway, and being curled up with Pakkun in his lap and Bull snoring on the other end sounds much more appealing than the echoes of a near-empty hallway. Even the drive there is vexing in its loneliness, the radio doing nothing to allay the unease. 

Thundering paws and low barks help. He swings the door open and is immediately greeted by several dogs, all pushed out of the way when Bull wanders over to lick the hand holding his bag. “You’re disgusting,” Kakashi laughs fondly. “Go on, we’ll go o-u-t-s-i-d-e in a minute. With this.” He pulls the bright pink frisbee down from the shelf, earning himself a renewed wave of excited yapping. “All right, all right, calm down.” Wading through fur and flying limbs leaves little room for upset and by the time everyone reaches the back door, he’s got a smile on his face.

“You’re exhausting” doesn’t sting as much under the sun. The pack could go forever playing fetch and running about the yard, but the front door slams after an hour or so and Kakashi straightens as Naruto walks back onto the porch.

“Hey,” the boy says.

“Hey.” Naruto doesn’t meet Kakashi’s gaze, just leans against the porch post and gnaws at his lip as though waiting for a beating. “How was practice?”

“I know Iruka talked to you, he said he was going to,” Naruto says softly. “What are you going to do?”

Kakashi sighs, disappointing the dogs when they bring the frisbee back and he doesn’t toss it again. “Why haven’t you been turning in your work?”

Naruto shrugs, still staring at the ground. “Haven’t done it.”

“Yeah, but why?” Kakashi can feel the desperation creeping into his bones, soon to melt into angry irritation. “You’ve always been good at English.”

“You’ve always been good at--” Naruto starts, but doesn’t finish as he scuffs his foot on the wood. “I don’t know. I just...don’t feel like it.”

“‘Just don’t feel like it’ doesn’t cut it,” Kakashi says. He stands and whistles for everyone to follow them back into the house, dodging flying bodies on his way to sit Naruto down across from him at the table. “I just don’t feel like teaching tomorrow, but I’m going to go anyway because that’s my job.”

“‘S because you see Iruka,” Naruto mumbles to his chest.

Kakashi’s heart begins to beat faster. He shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath to calm himself before placing his hands face down on the table. “Iruka has nothing to do with it. I’d rather  _ not  _ see him, if I’m being real with you.”

“I hate him.”

“You don’t.”

“I hate him for what he did to you,” Naruto says, lip curling. “You haven’t been happy since he left.”

Kakashi wasn’t happy  _ before  _ Iruka left either, but that’s not Iruka’s fault.

_ “Get help, Kakashi, or I’m never coming back.” _

He hates ultimatums, and Iruka’s was worse than usual. The man who finally seemed to accept Kakashi for who he is and then...no longer did. His hands tremble on the table as he struggles to keep his temper in check. Naruto does not deserve anger, not for telling Kakashi how he feels.

Even if he’s wrong.

“I set up a meeting with the three of us tomorrow,” he eventually says. “We’ll figure out what to do about your grades. Tonight, I want to see at least a page’s worth of work on one of the ones you missed. And I’ll read it, so no bullshitting.”

“Sasuke and I were go--”

“I don’t care about what you and Sasuke were going to do,” Kakashi snaps. His hands fly to his face at Naruto’s hurt look, shock evident in the way his eyes have widened almost too much to look human. Naruto’s chair screeches back and before Kakashi can get a word in, he’s out of the room and thundering upstairs, presumably to tell Sasuke what an asshole he lives with.

He’s right about  _ that. _

For the second time tonight, Kakashi finds himself with his face buried in an arm. This time, though, there’s Bisuke snuffling in the hand he’s got draped over his knee. Bull is nudging his thigh impatiently, waiting for dinner, and Pakkun is dancing over his feet in anticipation. Their goofy smiles make him want to cry.

“Someone’s there at least, huh?” he says, voice thick. “You just want some toys, and pets, and foo--” A chorus of barking interrupts him, and he manages a tiny laugh. “You don’t care, do you? I can be rude as fuck and you just think it’s a game.” He hauls Bisuke up to sit on his lap, wiggling his chest a bit as his voice pitches up. “Who’s the densest dog in the pack, huh? You? Is it you, Bisuke?”

Bull’s booming bark scares the dog out of Kakashi’s lap. 

“Mm, maybe it’s you.” Kakashi stands with a groan and ruffles Bull’s ears before going to the kitchen and portioning their food into bowls. “Uhei!” he calls. “Food!”

Once everyone’s settled and eating happily, he begins preparing food for he and Naruto. He even prepare’s Naruto’s favorite ramen as a peace offering, handing it wordlessly to the boy when he sees his glare. He should say sorry. He  _ wants  _ to. Instead, he sits at the table again and begins to grade, doing his best to focus on anything other than stray thoughts of Iruka.

**

Their meeting the next day goes about as well as expected. Iruka keeps Shizune out of it on purpose, because Naruto shutting his mouth because a relative stranger is in the room is the  _ last  _ thing everyone needs. There’s obvious tension between Naruto and Kakashi, and Iruka wonders how much of it is because of him.

He hadn’t wanted to leave. He’d wanted to keep chasing the high that is Kakashi on his good days, the Kakashi that wears a smile because his shoulders are free from the weight of the world. He wanted the Kakashi that sits up until one, two, three in the morning stargazing as they’re surrounded by the pack snoring. He wanted the Kakashi that  _ loves. _

That cares.

That Kakashi isn’t the one that’s sitting in front of him now. This Kakashi gnaws on his fingers until they bleed. This Kakashi is volatile, bound to ignite at the first sign of anything wrong. He’s reclusive, obsessive, an oppressive force of nature that threatens to tear you apart--and he’s looking at Iruka with the stormy grey eyes of a lost puppy.

“I’ll give you--” Iruka puffs his cheeks and twirls his pen as he thinks for a second-- “oh, two weeks to get the papers in, okay, Naruto? Since it’s been a while they won’t be at full credit, but two Cs are better than zeros.”

“Fine.” Naruto slumps in his seat, arms crossed and eyes darting anywhere that isn’t Iruka or Kakashi. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I’m asking for,” Iruka says kindly.

Kakashi rolls his eyes and begins to bounce his knee, causing his hair to fall over his eyes as his jaw works. “Is there any extra credit he can do?”

“There isn’t,” Iruka says.

“I’m going to have a hard enough time forcing the papers anyway,” Naruto says.

“I’ll do what I can to help you,” Iruka says, “but you need to put in the effort. I can’t carry the weight for you.” He tries to stop his eyes from flicking to Kakashi’s face, tries hard, but can’t stop himself.

Kakashi definitely notices. He’s halfway to saying something before Naruto stands, interrupting him. “If that’s all, I’ve got things to do,” he says.

Iruka holds his hands up. “That’s all I’ve got for you. Kakashi, if you could stay for a minute?”

The other man lights up quicker than Pakkun around a bone. “Sure. Not a problem.”

“Good.” He smiles at Naruto until the door closes, then lets his face fall to rest as he settles his chin on an upturned palm. Grey irises meet brown and for a split second, he thinks he catches a glimpse of stargazing Kakashi. “So,” he says, tracing mindless patterns on his desk with his other hand. Really, he should be doing this somewhere private, but being completely alone with Kakashi means flirting with a temptation he’s not ready for again. “Can I talk about our last conversation?”

“Yesterday?”  
“No, the--” Iruka taps his finger as he breaks Kakashi’s stare-- “um, what I asked...told you to do when I left.”

“Oh,” Kakashi says, and his voice is  _ glacial.  _ “That.”

“Have you at least thought about talking to someone?” Iruka asks. “I’m not pressuring, but Naruto says you’ve been quite snappy recently. Unkind.”

“That’s what happens after a heartbreak, though, isn’t it?” Kakashi sighs. He tents his fingers in front of his face before looking to the ceiling and exhaling sharply. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Iruka, that I can barely sleep at night because all I see is you next to me? That I need you? Fuck, even that I just miss you?”

“I want you to say you’ll talk to someone about your problems,” Iruka says. “You have them. I’m sorry, that’s just the way it is.”

Kakashi’s sullen silence is something Iruka would expect from one of his students. 

“You can go if you’re not going to say anything,” Iruka mumbles. “I just thought I’d ask.”  _ Because I miss you, too,  _ goes unsaid. There’s a chasm between them, slowly filling with awkward silence until Kakashi stands abruptly.

“Maybe,” he clips. “I’m still thinking.”

Iruka doesn’t tell him that thinking, just sitting and considering, is what got them into trouble in the first place.  _ Thinking  _ means Kakashi beginning to slip into a pit that even the dogs can’t dig himself out of.  _ Considering  _ means late nights up with him as he stares blankly at the wall with a tear-stained face, not bothering to eat because that means rousing himself from the house of memories he’s built around himself. 

Kakashi leaves without saying goodbye.

Iruka goes home, pours himself a glass of wine, and cries into the blanket Kakashi bought him for his birthday last year. 

_ “It reminds me of the way you fuck me,”  _ he’d said, grinning.  _ “Soft...warm...makes me feel all fuzzy...and it’s the same color as that pretty dick of yours.”  _ He’d been so sly that night, too, laying out Iruka’s favorite harness and toys before letting Iruka do as he wished. They’d gone out, just the two of them, and Iruka had been nearly overwhelmed at how much Kakashi  _ cared.  _ How he made Iruka feel precious. Treasured.

_ His. _

“Now look,” he says bitterly. The neighbor’s bird squawks next to the wall, and he gathers the blanket closer to dab at his eyes. He was so  _ stupid,  _ getting involved with someone who had only hurt him again. Falling over and over again for someone who didn’t-- _ couldn’t,  _ it felt like most days--bother with keeping up some semblance of sanity. 

“You’re a fucking idiot, Iruka,” he whimpers. “No more meddling. He either shapes up or he doesn’t.”

His phone is planted firmly on the kitchen counter, out of easy reach from where he’s nestled on the couch. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about just telling Anko to take it, because he doesn’t trust himself tonight, but he needs it for school in the morning and what’s to stop him from sending a message from his laptop, anyway? 

He misses the dogs and wishes he had something to cuddle with besides memories. The phone buzzes, showing no sign of stopping, and he gets up with a groan to answer it. “Hello?”  
_“Finally,”_ Anko says. _“I’ve been trying to message you. What’s up with me seeing Kakashi storm out of your room?”_

“I had him and Naruto in for a conference,” he says, rubbing a sleeve across his nose. “And then I asked him if he was taking steps to get help.”

_ “Isn’t?” _

“No.” His voice cracks and he sniffs. “I just want him not to hurt, Anko.”

_ “Honey, you can’t fix someone who doesn’t want to be fixed. Trust me. Look at how I tried with Or--” _

“I know,” he whispers. “I’m trying so hard to convince myself it’s not worth the pain, anymore, but  _ god,  _ I miss him.” He tips the glass to his mouth and whines when there’s nothing in the bottom. “Come fill my glass for me.”

_ “Ru.” _

“I know, I know, don’t drown my feelings,” he says.

_ “Do you want me to come over?” _

He wipes his eyes and tries to focus on the tv as he nods, then voices his assent. “I need a hug.”

_ “Ice cream?” _

“I shouldn’t.”

_ “What do you  _ want  _ to do?” _

Iruka smiles a watery smile. “Binge Game of Thrones and forget about the whole business.”

_ “Castle Umino, here I come,”  _ she says, and he can picture the way she’s puffing out her chest to get the gruff tone she knows will make him laugh.  _ “Give me twenty minutes, I’m stopping at the store.” _

“You don’t ha--”

_ “Said I’m stopping at the store, wasn’t asking. What do you have for snacks?” _

“I don’t know.”

_ “Right, then,”  _ she says.  _ “Consider this reparations for when you came and talked me down from getting back with that snake. I love you. See you soon.” _

“I love you too,” he says to the dead line. The phone drops to his lap and he slumps down so he’s laying nearly flat. Kakashi’s number has long since been erased--if one could call two months  _ long-- _ but Iruka still knows it by heart, knows Kakashi’s only a few digits away. Every inch of him itches to just pick it up and break down about how he only wants the best for the man he loves, but it’s an itch he staunchly refuses to scratch.

_ It’ll get easier,  _ he tells himself.  _ Each day the call fades,  _ he tells himself.  _ Kakashi’s not worth your time if he’s not going to put time of his own in,  _ he tells himself, but he can’t find it in himself to believe it. He still loves Kakashi, plain and simple, and he doesn’t know how much longer the war between feelings and facts can wage before he’s torn apart completely.


	2. Chapter 2

Naruto manages to pull it together in the two weeks. He tells Kakashi thank you, and that he wishes he’d be a little happier for him. “I managed pretty high scores, for what was available,” he says. Pakkun’s seated in his lap as both men sit on the couch, Kakashi avoiding Naruto’s eyes. “Can I be ungrounded now?”

“I said a month,” Kakashi says. His body is weary with the knowledge Naruto will fight him on this and there will be another confrontation. No one’s here to help this time, though. Almost three months parenting on his own again, and he’s  _ still _ not prepared. “To make sure your grades stay consistently all right. Please don’t argue with me about it.”

Picking at the fraying edges of Pakkun’s collar, Naruto’s nose wrinkles. “Dad would’ve let me go,” he says. “I fixed it, so there’s nothing left to do.”

“Your dad’s not here,” Kakashi says.

“Iruka probably could’ve convinced you,” Naruto tries, and Kakashi’s heart clenches.

“Iruka probably could’ve, you’re right,” he says. “But he’s not here anymore, and therefore what I say goes. You’re still grounded until the ninth.”

Naruto removes Pakkun from his lap and curls into a ball, glaring out the window as Kakashi struggles to find a way to explain. “I don’t really care,” he says. “I can’t go out or play any games, so now I guess I’ll just sit here.”

“Don’t bring up Iruka again, either.” Kakashi ignores the petulant huff as he stands to retreat to the kitchen. Naruto’s stare burns holes in his back, and he hangs his head before grabbing the counter nearly hard enough to leave a dent. “Ever.”

“I have to, if you need progress reports,” Naruto says, and Kakashi can  _ hear  _ the eye roll. 

“Don’t bring him up like he’s coming back,” Kakashi says. His voice sounds tremulous, rough even to his own ears, and he clears his throat. “It’s just me and you and the dogs.”

“I’m so lucky.”

Kakashi sets his jaw and lets the counter go. “I could be making you help grade papers or something,” he says, “or going and clipping the grass with scissors. My father did that to me once when he found out I’d lied to him about doing yardwork.”

“Why isn’t he coming back?” Naruto asks quietly. When Kakashi looks back, he looks near the point of frustrated tears. “He was good for us. And you weren’t such a fucking jerk.”

“Language!” Kakashi barks.

Naruto jumps.

“F--” Kakashi nearly curses instead, but catches himself just in time. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not.”

Kakashi’s not in the right place to argue, so he just lets Naruto pound upstairs to his room without saying anything else. Arguing will only bring on a worse fog than the one he’s currently mired in. Autopilot takes over as he runs through his chores, washing and wiping and cooking until finally, he’s sitting on the couch and staring at the wall over a bowl of dry cereal. The crunch rumbles through the room as he eats it piece by piece.

Naruto’s right.

Iruka does make him better.

He made it easier, at least, to  _ want  _ to be better. He made it look so simple, being happy. Being normal. Iruka was a blessing, and Kakashi had let him slip out of his hands like the plate that had crashed to the ground when Iruka announced he was leaving. But Kakashi was getting better at managing himself, couldn’t Iruka see that? He was getting better at realizing what the drop meant, taking sleep aids when he wanted to stay up for hours working on projects.

He was getting better, and Iruka still left.

Kakashi bites his tongue and jolts himself from the thoughts. Bull looks up in concern at his pained groan, sighing heavily when Kakashi thumps the bowl down on the table. “Can’t even fucking eat properly,” he mutters. “I’m  _ sad,  _ Bull, let me be upset.”

Bull only gives him a look.

“‘Get help,’ he says,” Kakashi mocks. He pulls his sweatshirt up around his chin and buries his face in the arm of the couch. “Wonder how he’d feel if I showed up to school one day with you. You help. Want to be a service dog?”

Bisuke, always excitable, begins to wag his tail at the question.

“You’d just excited-pee on everything,” Kakashi says, and he doesn’t know if he’s ever seen a dog look so dejected. “Come on. Come here.” He exhales in a rush when twenty pounds of dog lands directly on his stomach. “God-Bis-shit--not that quickly.”

Uhei wanders over, eyeing the bowl before not-so-sneakily attempting to eat a few pieces. 

“That’s not for you,” Kakashi warns. “Get down.”

Naruto’s door slams upstairs, angry footsteps making their way down until he stops in the living room doorway with arms crossed. “There’s no point in me not being allowed to do things if my grades are fine,” he says. “I want to play Overwatch with Sasuke and Sakura. Uhei’s eating the cereal.”

“Get--” Kakashi untangles himself from the sweatshirt and swats gently at the offending nose, earning himself a mournful stare. “You’re not playing Overwatch. You’re lucky I let you keep the phone. It’s only another week and a half. You’ll survive without it.”

“It’s not fair!”

What’s not fair is being forced to make decisions when he doesn’t even know if he wants to sleep or stay awake. What’s not fair is that he’s responsible for a teen with an attitude problem because of a drunk driver a year or so ago. What’s not  _ fair _ is that his life has been put on pause because he can’t think, can’t untangle the fucking mess in his head enough to take care of  _ himself,  _ let alone another person.

“Life’s not fair.”

Naruto sucks in a breath. “You think I don’t know that?”

“I didn’t--” Kakashi clenches his fist and grits his teeth, evening his voice. “I know you know that,” he says. “Trust me, I know you know that more than anyone.” 

“Then why don’t you see that I’m hurting too?” 

It’s not something Kakashi expects, seeing Naruto vulnerable, and it throws him. “Of course you are. You have good reason to be.”

“Do you care?” Naruto whispers. He hugs himself and sags against the doorframe, the fight bleeding out of him bit by bit. “Because you missed the fact that we should’ve gone to their graves today. It’s nice to see you sitting around doing nothing, though. Makes me feel like I really matter, like my parents matter.”

Kakashi freezes, mentally tallying the days. Eight from Naruto’s birthday to when Iruka asked to speak to them, fifteen to today, which means... _ fuck.  _ He scrubs his hands over his face with a low groan. “I didn’t realize,” he whispers. “I’ll go get dressed and we can go now.”

“No,” Naruto says. “It’s nearly eight, there’s no point now. Flower places are all going to be closed by the time you’re ready.”

“We can still go, though, see them at least.”

“I don’t  _ want  _ to.” Naruto’s voice sends a chill down Kakashi’s spine. It’s the voice that Iruka used to use when he was attempting to get Kakashi out of bed and showered.  _ Dark.  _ “I want them back, because they at least acted like life was  _ worth  _ something.”

“Naru--”

“No,” Naruto bites out. “Iruka was right, what he said. You’re exhausting. I always feel like I have to put in all this effort just to get you to even notice me, Kakashi, and that’s not right. It’s not.” His chin trembles, but he does not let his tears fall. “I want my family back.”

Kakashi scoops up a blanket and cringes at the way Naruto shrinks when he wraps it around his shoulders. “How long have you felt that way?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does.”

Naruto leans back into the wood, head resting with a dull  _ thud.  _ “Doesn’t. It’s not going to change anything. Even Iruka couldn’t change it. Now look. He’s happy and you’re--” he looks to Kakashi’s chest before beginning to gnaw on his lip-- “I don’t think you know what happy is.”

“I know what it is,” Kakashi whispers. Naruto shrugs off the hand he puts on his shoulder, and he frowns. “I can be happy.”

“But you  _ never  _ are anymore,” Naruto says, exasperated. “Always moping, ‘oh, Iruka left me because I don’t know why,’ fucking--”

“Naruto.”

“He left me too!” Naruto shouts. Kakashi’s ears ring as the dogs’ nails on the floor signal their skittering away. “He left me with you, because you can’t  _ man up  _ and be an adult for once in your goddamned life.” 

Kakashi’s blood simmers with rage as Naruto’s first tear falls. “Excuse me?”

“I lost my real parents, then the next best thing,” Naruto says, and his voice holds something not unlike malice. “Because you’re too proud to admit that hey, you’re a fuck up.”

“Ex- _ cuse  _ me?” Kakashi repeats, jaw dropping before he snaps it shut. “You do not speak to me like that.”

“No, I’m pretty sure I do,” Naruto says. “Iruka’s too nice to do it and you obviously didn’t listen to him caring, so I’m telling you that I’m leaving too if you don’t fix this. Yourself. Fix yourself.” He drops the blanket along with all propriety and raises a hand to his mouth as a sob escapes him. “You can’t keep living like this.”

Kakashi gapes as he disappears up the stairs, each second an eon before he snaps to his senses and goes after him. There’s a stark difference between their rooms, obvious in that he can actually see Naruto’s floor. He follows the wood to the (surprisingly) made bed that holds the boy he was tasked with and vowed to protect. 

The one who’s threatening to leave him.

“Go away,” Naruto mutters. “I don’t want to see you.” Bisuke shoves past Kakashi’s legs to hop onto the bed next to him, and he sniffs into the tan fur. “Go get pissed in the backyard or some shit, I don’t care.”

The tightly coiled spring of rage in Kakashi’s stomach begins to unfurl, red-hot as it sears through sinew and bone to brand his mind.  _ No one cares, because you’re a fuck up. No one cares. No one cares.  _ “Fine,” he says, voice deadly quiet. “Stay up here, then. Text Iruka.”

_ No one cares. _

“Maybe I will,” Naruto says, but Kakashi’s already shutting the door behind him.

He knows he should walk the dogs or at least go outside, but he elects to drag the half-empty whiskey bottle and a glass from the cupboard instead. One goes down like water, then another, and another, and he glares at the blank TV as he nurses a fourth. It’d be easier to lose himself in whatever mindless garbage is on cable tonight, but the remote’s too far away and he’s too comfortable swaddled in his blankets.

The knock on the door is an unwelcome intrusion, the mere sound of Iruka’s cheerful knocking pattern grinding every last nerve to dust. “Get out,” he growls, just before Naruto’s door opens.

“Everything okay, Kakashi?” the other teacher asks.

Kakashi doesn’t answer. His tongue is too heavy, the confrontation not worth the effort. He takes another drink, downing the glass to the sound of Naruto’s footsteps on the stairs. Looking up at Naruto as he skirts the wall to sneak out the door isn’t worth it either, and he just wants Iruka to leave with the boy.

He doesn’t. 

“I said get out,” Kakashi says.

“How much have you had?” Iruka asks, arms crossed and a disgusted look on his face.

“Not nearly enough to deal with you right now.”

“Right.” Iruka huffs as he heaves himself from the doorway. “Naruto’s asked to stay with me for a few days. I almost said no, and then he told me you said he could.”

“Didn’t mean it,” Kakashi says.

“I don’t care,” Iruka says, and Kakashi’s gut drops. “Call me when you’re ready to not be an utter jackass, okay? I’ll see you at school.”

Kakashi simply waves him away, unwilling to admit that tonight, of all nights, he wants him back the most.

**

Naruto’s quiet tears break Iruka’s heart. “I just wanted one night,” he mumbles to the car window. “Like, can’t he just--”

Iruka waits for several seconds before realizing he’s not going to finish. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No.”

“Okay.” When they pull up to a light, Iruka reaches down to turn on the radio. Naruto sinks lower in his seat, looking every bit like a blond Kakashi, and stares sightlessly ahead as the city passes. Iruka tries humming along but stops when he realizes it’s one of Kakashi’s favorites and is only making the tears fall harder.

Naruto leans heavily against Iruka’s arm when they park and walk up to his door. He’s got papers scattered all over the table, a largely empty pot of coffee still heating on the warmer, and old reruns of a cooking show on TV because on nights like these, it helps with the loneliness.

He’s pretty sure taking Naruto for the night isn’t the best of ideas.

“Blankets are in the hall closet as usual,” Iruka says. “I’ll make the spare bed for you.”

“I can do it,” Naruto says softly, looking down at the floor. “You don’t have to interrupt your schedule for me, it’s fine. I don’t want to bother you.”

“You’re not a bother.” Iruka smiles in an attempt to wrest one out of Naruto. “Remote’s on the coffee table if you want to watch TV, or you could sit and watch me grade, or we could break out any one of the ice creams Anko’s left me these last few weeks.”

“Was it because of him?” Naruto asks.

“That time of the month,” Iruka lies. 

Naruto doesn’t call him on it, much to his relief, because what a  _ stupid  _ excuse. “Can I use the PS4? I just need to unwind.”

“Yeah, yeah, go for it.” Iruka putters around the kitchen, pulling down ingredients for the cocoa he prepared for Naruto on the nights when it was all he could do to sit up under the weight of grief. “I think your account is still logged in here.” He measures the powder, sugar, and milk, tapping the counter impatiently as he whisks around the pan. It’s not as though he had huge plans for tonight, but the interruption of his quiet time--especially with news that Kakashi isn’t in a good place--is frustrating.

Everything settles back to quiet when he puts the mug in front of Naruto and retreats to the table. There’s no messages from Kakashi, something that’s almost-but-not-quite shocking. He’s probably sleeping at this point, which is what Iruka and Naruto should be doing. There’s still papers to grade, though, and Naruto hasn’t quite calmed down enough to break his gaze from the game.

That comes in time. 

“Sorry I bothered you,” Naruto says, dragging himself to sit across from Iruka.

“Don’t be sorry for asking for help,” Iruka says. “There’s only so much you can do.”

“Yeah, but I pushed him.” Naruto brings a knuckle to his lips to chew as he nervously meets Iruka’s eyes. “It’s the anniversary, and all he was doing was sitting on the couch moping. Didn’t say a word about it.”

“Did you remind him nicely?”

“No,” Naruto mumbles, drawing his shoulders in. “But they were his friends. He should’ve remembered.”

“Ahh,” Iruka sighs. “I see.”

Naruto shakes his head. “I should go home.”

“I think Kakashi probably needs some time to cool down,” Iruka says. “Really, you’re free to stay here for the night. I don’t mind.”

“He might need help,” Naruto says. “I should go.”

Iruka nods, holding back a sigh. “If that’s what you think will be best. Make sure you’re safe for me?” When Naruto promises, he stands up to give the younger man a hug. “I know it’s too late tonight, but if you’d like me to bring you to the cemetery after school tomorrow, I can.”

“Thanks,” Naruto says, but doesn’t outright accept the offer. “I’ll text Sasuke or Itachi to come pick me up so you don’t have to see him again. I know you hate it.”

“I don’t mind,” Iruka says, but he’s denied.

He wishes things were different, wishes that Kakashi had  _ listened  _ instead of letting his pride get in the way. He wishes that he would’ve been able to break through the haze and save Kakashi from himself, and he wishes that Naruto could have been caught anywhere but in the crosshairs of their split.

He regrets that the most.

When Naruto leaves, Iruka sets his arms on the table and buries his head with a low groan. He should really just get to bed and say fuck it, he’ll do the rest of his grading tomorrow, but against his better judgement, he sees a message from one of Anko’s friends she’s trying to set him up with.

_ “They’re not looking for anything serious right now, Ru, perfect for you,”  _ she’d said.  _ “Go out on a date or two, live a little.” _

“All right, Anko,” he mumbles, swiping the screen open. “Nothing serious.” He fires off a quick text offering to have Genma over for the night and hopes to any god that Anko hasn’t hooked him up with a serial killer. “Nothing...serious.”

He gets a text back almost immediately asking his address and dress code,  _ wink.  _

_ -Nothing is preferable, but at least something for outdoors _

**-Can do**

Iruka clears off the table hastily, darting from room to room to make sure everything’s in relatively decent shape before making sure  _ he’s  _ in decent shape. There’s a moment where he regrets the ice cream from earlier, but that and every other thought flies away the second Genma’s knuckles rap on the door.

“Anyone home?” they call.

“Just a minute!” Iruka takes on last look in the mirror, straightening his shirt and spine as he inhales deeply. “You’ve got this,” he says. “It hasn’t been too long.”

Genma’s eyes dip from Iruka’s head to feet and back again when he opens the door. “Anko’s pictures of you don’t do you justice,” they say. “Surprised you haven’t been picked up by anyone else yet.” Stepping inside at Iruka’s invitation, they grin when the door clicks shut. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Anko’s pictures are all probably filtered to hell,” Iruka chuckles, wetting his lips. “I much prefer the real thing.”

“Do you?” they murmur.

Iruka sighs as their hands come up to cup his cheeks. “Just a few things before we get into it,” he says. “Please don’t touch anywhere but my ass.”

“Acceptable,” Genma says, nodding.

“And don’t play with my nipples.”

“Understood.”

“And,” Iruka says, lips quirking up in a smirk as he winds his hands in Genma’s jacket to draw them closer. “No telling Anko any wild stories.”

Genma snickers. “That’s your job, then?”

“Of course.” Iruka looks up to see their eyes already half-lidded. “Any no-nos?”

“Just don’t call me man and you’re golden.” Genma dips down to brush their lips over Iruka’s, surprisingly gentle in the light of the kitchen. “Take off your shirt for me?”

“You first.” Iruka drags the sleeves of their jacket down to reveal a black tank top that hugs the muscled panes of their chest, and sucks in a breath between his teeth. “Don’t think her pictures did you justice either,  _ fuck.” _

“That’s the plan, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Iruka says. He steps backwards, pulling Genma along and down the hall before they take control and press the length of their body over his, trapping him against the wall. A knee works between his thighs as their lips meld, stealing his breath and any leftover inhibition. “Oh, god, yeah~”

Genma’s hands are just on the good side of rough as they slide up Iruka’s stomach and rid him of the offending fabric. “Barely gotten a taste of you and I’m ready to come back for seconds,” they say. “Remind me to thank her later.”

“I will.” Iruka’s fingers make quick work of Genma’s pants to free their already-hard cock as he trails his lips down their throat. “But only if you promise to fuck me hard enough to forget the rest of the world exists.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments always read and _very_ much appreciated, and I always do my best to get back to them ❤️
> 
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